Fly With Me
by darthsydious
Summary: Circus!lock au. Molly and Sherlock are aerialists. One-shot, just a bit of fuzzyness. Sherlolly, background warstan. Also if you've never seen Cirque Du Soliel's World's Away, go watch it now, esp. the finale.


_Wrote this almost immediately after viewing Cirque Du Solieil's 'World's Away'. Go watch it, it is the most incredible performance, especially the finale. So. Gorgeous._

* * *

"Do you know what it's like to fly?" he swung her the second wrist-strap. Molly smiled, timid. Her ease at catching the handle without flinching made Sherlock pause.  
"Some," she answered, securing it around her wrist. She hadn't had a partner in so long, and she was nervous. She could hear Mary in the wings, murmuring to John.

Swaggering and brash, Sherlock strode over to her. For a moment, Molly was reminded of her brief stint with Moriarty. All bravado, his tricks were daring to the point of unsafe; he was all showmanship and couldn't have cared less for her comfort on the trapeze and with the aerial straps. Molly had broken her contract with him shortly after their premiere together. His tricks were impressive, but not worth the aggravation of him teasing her, pretending not to catch her. She didn't trust him, and where there was no trust, there could be no relationship, professional or otherwise. She'd been a soloist ever since, and was happy to be so, that is until she met Sherlock Holmes. She suddenly remembered the want to have implicit trust in someone, to share the elation of 'flying' as it were.

She blinked, realizing Sherlock stood before her, his hand outstretched for her's. This was not a demand. It was a request to join him, and she found she did not want to say no. Placing her hand in his, she stepped up to him. His arm went around her waist. His touch was gentle yet strong. She felt quite sure in his grasp, and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life here.

"Hold tight," he murmured in her ear and they flew off, lifted high into the air over the stage. Muscle-memory took over and she adjusted her shoulders, releasing the tension from her back. Laughter bubbled up in her throat as they turned, over and over, skimming through the air. Sherlock, emboldened by her reaction, pushed her away from him, holding her at arm's-length and she swung in a wider arc. Her legs found position in the air and as she swung around, he caught her ankle, turning her over again. As she circled round and round, she caught sight of him, and for a moment, was taken aback to see him smiling, genuinely smiling at her. He was watching her as if she were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Molly _did_ feel beautiful when she was performing, and under Sherlock's tender gaze, she suddenly felt as if she could have flown right off the straps and kept on going.

He caught her again, and she hooked her leg around his torso, the other angled out, her father used to call it her rudder, though it did little to steer her course as Sherlock was the one with the most leverage. His brash smile softened, though his eyes sparked at her. Their breathing in sync, he hoisted himself up above her, and she let her legs go limp. She slid herself down his waist so her head rested over his abdomen.

They propelled through the air, trust was immediate, movements were easy to follow. Sherlock had never felt this level of synchronicity with any other person before, and he reveled in it. He wanted more.

"Do you trust me?" he asked as they were lowered.

"Yes."

"Take my neck, give me the straps." She obeyed, and he hooked the straps around his wrists, turning the rope over his forearms to brace himself.

John, seeing Sherlock take both aerial straps, moved forward, concerned. Mary touched his elbow.

"Wait," she murmured. They watched as Molly's fingers laced behind Sherlock's neck and they were lifted again. He balanced himself, splaying his legs to ease tension on his back. Together they were lifted up again, high over the stage. Her large eyes smiling up at him, Sherlock might have laughed if he weren't sure the movement would cause her to fall. The air skimming through her bare feet, Molly felt her heart skip a beat. Only her fingers laced behind Sherlock's neck and his balance kept her from falling. She took a breath, and before she could stop herself, pulled herself up, kissing him. She felt him smile against her mouth and he moved with her, helping her balance as she lifted her legs up, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. In a moment he'd rolled her up so she was sitting on his shoulder, his head resting against her hip. He gazed up at her, in awe of the woman he had once believed to be nothing more than a mousy pretense. Not so anymore! Molly Hooper was strong, not simply physically. He could see now how wrong he'd been.

Carefully she slid down, again holding onto his strong shoulders. His smile was small, genuine. They lowered to the stage floor, ropes growing slack as she stepped lightly away, turning a cartwheel for the fun of it before facing him again. He released both straps, sliding one along the rope to her. She caught it easily.

For a moment, they only stood, catching their breath. The air was electric.

Sherlock spoke first: "Again?"

She nodded, grinning this time.

"Again."


End file.
